Bargain Shopping

I tried to make it to Anthropology today but walked inside Macy's instead. I landed in the shoe department. I thought it would be a quick trip. Then I found four pairs of shoes for forty percent off each, which I told myself was a bargain. Somewhere in there I got an extra ten percent off too, but it almost felt like buying a plane ticket, a cheap plane ticket mind you, but still a plane ticket. When I consider whether I would rather buy shoes or plane tickets, as much as the smell and look of a fresh pair of boots is enticing, I still choose travel any day.

I tried to make it to Anthropology because I remember the great experience there earlier this year meeting Mae, and finding the perfect jumpsuit, which actually looks entirely like a dress, so really it doubles as both. The perfect jumpsuit dress was also a perfect bargain. Long and flowy and turquoise.


The perfect turquoise jumpsuit dress was a dream buy, especially for someone who doesn't like to shop. It was January and I needed an outfit fast. Maybe I'll get lucky if I go to a store I don't shop at often, I thought to myself, and started scurrying around, eager for a magical clothing item to jump out at me. That's when I met Mae. She wasn't a magical clothing item, but she was her own kind of magic. She was friendly and we were both chatty. She talked with me about where I was going.

'I'm speaking at a storytelling event...in front of a couple hundred people," I told her. 

Only a couple minutes later, I found the dress and started getting excited. She agreed that it was the right pick. 'I know it's winter but..' 

I started telling her a little about what the writing piece was about and what my style of storytelling was like. I told her I wanted it to be fun, but also portray a sense of change and rebirth. Well, the dress was just that: colorful, light and airy. 

I was now officially getting more excited about the dress than speaking. Time to snap back into reality.

Mae asked me when the event was. Tomorrow! She then said she was off the next evening. She decided right then and there to purchase a ticket.

The next night, when the time came for the AZ Storytellers Project evening on New Beginnings, Mae showed up and I told her she could come sit with me and the other people who came to support me that night. I ended up sitting by someone who was a stranger 24 hours before.

It is only now that I am realizing that Mae is a coffee, and that the 87 Coffees project still could have some life in it yet. Her adventurous spirit and sense of style is inspiring. 

When we parted ways in the store that first day, I told her everything had gone full circle, as this meeting was completely giving life and breath to what I was saying about New Beginnings. She said now she had to come to see what I was talking about. 

Mae is a genuine, gutsy person, I could tell just by meeting her. She Facebook friended me because that's what happens after you take pictures together even though you don't really know each other. She told me she had a great time at the storytelling event.

I think it's important to get out there and live a little and I'm glad I have the turquoise dress to remind me of that. The dress reminds me of getting up there in front of all those people and of meeting Mae and if I wanted to interview her for a book, or really sit down for a coffee with her, I bet she'd say yes. She was a good reminder of when saying yes is a good thing.

I am All the People

I took an uber to my job interview the other day. Which makes total sense with my life. I've always wanted to try actually calling uber since I am lucky enough to get an up close peek at uber driving at its finest all the time. I thought maybe I could be a behind the scenes secret uber passenger, if you will.

But that's probably not at all what happened. I wanted to get from point A to point B, so this time it didn't matter if there was a story.

There's usually a story..

Turns out, I was the story.

The people uber drivers talk about who aren't in the designated spot upon pick up. Truth: I thought I was flagging down Alan the driver but I ended up stopping a hospital employee instead. He was kind and generous to tell me he was not said uber man.

Once I found Alan, who had eight kids and was doing uber for a few weeks while his wife had surgery, we got to the topic of stories. That's when he told me he was going to go home and tell his wife about me. Which part? Apparently, the whole job interview/uber story was pretty hysterical to him. Seemed kind of normal to me...

We shared a few stories as he is also a motorcyclist and I told him that kind of thing always sounded cool but not something I could hack. I don't even enjoy racing go-carts, as I learned the other week. Somehow, in my mind, go-carts equated to the little bumper cars I played around in as a kid. Not the same.

By the end of the ride, he agreed to be a character for this book. Although, it sounded like I became a character in his.

Funny how we think we aren't all the people but turns out we are. We've all heard stories and seen stories and wondered what to do with all the stories, but we are just the same. Maybe not exactly the same, but we're all someone's dinner time antics and I think that's alright. Maybe even comedic the way the world goes around like that.

Timbler the Traveling Man

I am learning my way around and have been enjoying traveling around the city of blue skies and sunny days. It's been the rainy season here so I encountered my first Arizona storm last night. I was about to take a walk when the weather changed in the matter of seconds. In the morning, all was well again and it was as if nothing ever happened. Onward, we go.

Before I left North Carolina, my friend Amy and I decided to purchase a traveling friend who would belong to both of us, and split his time between Phoenix and Raleigh. We found the tiniest of traveling creatures and named him Timbler. We knew he was just right for the job.

Don't underestimate him.

 

He made the long journey and then he made his first stop in the desert at Lola's to eat some breakfast. Yum.

 



 

 

The library was fun but big! He liked riding the elevator. He decided to go easy on the reading for awhile and just keep seeing the sights.

 

 

Where will Timbler be next?

 

He was in my car the last time I checked, but now he's not there. You can't be lost when you're on an adventure, but hopefully, he didn't try to escape during the storm last night.

 

I will keep you posted. He is such a traveler, I am sure he will have many stories to tell us. Perhaps over coffee.

 





The Storied City

A week ago today I moved to a new land.

All at once everything feels different and then nothing feels different at all.

I feel like I am supposed to be here, this strange place. I feel like I don't know where I fit, this strange place.

What do you do when you're anonymous in a new place?

You get out and see the world, that is all you can do.

I promise there are more pictures, friends, but true to my life, I am out now, at a coffee shop no less, and my phone has died once again.

~~~~

I have had a couple distinct coffee encounters so far in Phoenix (I will write about them in a few minutes, I promise), but for the most part I've only been able to take in all that is happening around me before actually engaging in it too much. I have always been one of those people who has to understand a little before moving toward.

I want to engage this storied city, but everywhere, things are different. Truth: I need to understand this place a little more but the stories are still here, still coming. They are coming in bits and fragments, and I don't understand how they fit together yet. But that's okay.

The group next to me only further confirm and inspire in me the idea that I may have landed in the desert, but this place is flowing with creativity, diversity and art. They seem to be writers, maybe screenwriters. I am trying not to eavesdrop too much on them but I keep hearing about skits involving clown strippers and puppets on trial..Who are all these people???

It's amazing to be somewhere new, not just for the point of a short travel where time moves quickly and you still see from a distance, but with eyes up close and when foreign meets familiar. It's starting to happen but slowly, or maybe quicker than I imagined.

How much do we forget that we are creatures of habit? What of life when we lay open to what a day brings us? What a place and its people bring us? And when we CAN'T be in control because everything, everything is new?

There, perhaps, is a blessing in disguise.

The power of a phone calendar (two guys on a train)

If you want to know the truth, I blame Paul and Matt for this blog.  And several other people who have helped along the way (I guess I should include you all who have known me for longer than a train ride...)

:::

I had just left the conference that was so profound that my cousin, who I would meet up with in just a few short minutes in the city, said caused me to be 'all kinds of sentimental.' I was riding a real live train for the first time since my European excursion in 2005 so I was taking a video (of course) for my roommates-turned-lifelong-frieds from that adventure when I was interrupted by the two guys behind me.

They asked where I was going because of my seat buddy. The fifty pounds of luggage taking up space in the aisle. I didn't mind conversation even though my brain was like silly putty after the weekend's learnings. They were approachable, insurance salesmen (for mega churches,  they said) and seemed to enjoy showing me the sights as we went into the city. Of course, that included the ins and outs of the train. Fun fact: you can drink on the metra train. This was told to me by Paul. Or was it Matt? Either way, they were having fun, so as the train rolled on, so did our conversation.


We got to talking about their work and the conference at Willow Creek. Somehow, the subject of writing came up. Of course, I was hyped up on inspiration and bravery, so words about my aspiring book called 87 Coffees (which I'd been trying to write for almost a year now with little progress) came flooding out.

"87 Coffees? What's that?" they asked.

I told them it was about unplanned meetings with new faces in the crowd, 87 to be exact. Or at least that was the point on the horizon. I told them I meet people all the time through interesting encounters or connections so why not write about it? It's usually funny. This comment not to be directed at the situation in front of me where it seemed like the only people drinking on the train and making a racket were the ones talking to me. The guy across the way from us would be snoring soon, he was so fast asleep.


"You guys have got to be characters in this book," I said. " Is that okay?"

"When's it coming out?" they asked (I'm pretty sure they also agreed somewhere in there).

I squirmed a bit. Oh look, time to go...

Paul pulled out his phone calendar and said he couldn't wait to check on this project. Everyone (except the man sleeping) started getting excited.

A year. From that day.  That's when he'd check on it. "A year's enough time to do this, right?

Was that a real question? I barely had anything written.

He put it in his phone. You know, like when you write down appointments and important matters?  You rarely look back until that day, so it felt permanent.

Matt did the same thing.

I'm not sure I answered their question.

I asked another question. What about the possibility it wasn't done, what if they didn't see anything after a year's time?

"We can just push the date back a year in our phones."

What?! That's it?

Space to breathe.

They quizzed me on their names again so I wouldn't forget (with all that time that might elapse, I didn't blame them).

Me forget them, though? They just told me they were going to make sure a stranger got her book written. Who knew all she needed was a little push, knowing there were people out there waiting for the story?

I believe them, too.

I need to practice believing in people everyday, and reminding myself of the light there.  Maybe that's what'll come out of this. A whole lot of light in what is often a dark world. We'll see.

Matt and Paul (and friends!)...I don't want to wait one or more years to write your stories. Here goes nothing.